


The beginning

by DestinyKid



Series: Light and Dark intertwined [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyKid/pseuds/DestinyKid
Summary: You knew your duties as a guardian. Fight, save, repeat. But the most unlikely person reminds you that even Guardians need to rest. And heals you in other ways.





	1. Stay with me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is my first story EVER, but I'm super excited to be sharing it! I know I'm not the most talented writer, so please bear with me. :)

You sat on the floor, your legs dangling off the edge on the old Towers hanger. You were leaned back on one hand, with a protein bar in the other. The view of the city was breathtaking, with bright lights shining in the night’s sky, and the Travelers energy illuminating the building tops below. 

You spent most of your free time here, observing the city and its beauty, despite the mess behind you. The leftover pieces of destroyed sparrows and ships still remained, and the black smudge marks of where fires once roared still gave off a burnt smell. 

People tried to ignore the old tower, most people didn't even have any way to access it. Yet you couldn't help but linger here. Despite it's ruined and broken state, you liked it here. A good spot for you to escape. 

You took a bite out of your bar as your Ghost slips into view.  
“Are those things even any good?” He asks. You chuckle as you swallow your bite.

“No, not really. But they keep me going.” You responded, lowering the bar to your lap.

“You know the food bar is always open Guardian, even this late at night.” Your Ghost suggests. You shrug off the idea.

“Everything that's any good is gone by now, guess that's what I get for coming back this late, huh?”

Ghosts sighs, then fixes his eye on something behind you.

“You have a visitor,” He says.

You turn your body and watch as the Drifter approaches you, two small round containers in hands.

“Hey there,” He says, “Thought I’d find you here.” He sits down next to you and offers you one of the containers.

“What's this?” You ask, taking it from his hand.

“Uh, it’s a stew of some kind. Not sure what, but they were serving it at the bar earlier tonight. Thought ya might want some before it was all gone.”

He knew that you’ve been gone for some time, and just returned to the City. It had probably been days since you've had a decent meal.

You smile and thank him for the thought, as you put your half-eaten protein bar on the floor beside you. He then reached into one of his many pockets and offers you a spoon, which you accept.

This was not uncommon. For the past few months, the Drifter and you had been spending a fair amount of time together. It started with him observing you during your Gambit and Crucible matches, to offering you a drink or two, until you were sharing stories and tales. You started to grow more comfortable around the strange man, who at first was intimidating, to say the least. And while his intentions with Gambit and the darkness were still unknown to you, he was still someone grew to enjoyed sharing a drink with. 

You unscrewed the lid of the insulated container, and hot steam pours out of the brown substance. It smelled of heaven as you try your first spoonful, and it tasted just the same.

One of the penalties of being a Guardian is taking what you can get when it comes to your needs. A protein bar here, or power nap there. Hell, it had been 5 days since you've actually slept in your own bed. The only thing keeping you going was the light your Ghost provided you with, just barely holding your unsteady body together.

It was no problem for you though. Lately, you haven’t liked sleeping. When you slept, nightmares often clawed into your mind. Memories of lost friends and haunting enemies, and you had no idea what was causing them. Regardless, you did anything you could do to keep those thought out of your mind. 

“Woah, you better slow down, or you’re gonna choke ”  
You chuckle as you set down your bowl, taking the time to actually swallow.  
“Sorry, it’s been a while since I've had something this good.” You respond.

The Drifter snickers as he lowers his own bowl to his lap. “Yeah, you've been going hard lately. You've been gone for what, 4 or 5 days?” He asks.

“Yeah, there was some extra trouble going on in the Dreaming City. Couldn't really catch a break until today. I’ve got some night patrols scheduled for the EDZ in about an hour now.”

The Drifters smug expression changes, and his brows lower.

“You always seem to be so concerned with fixing everyone else’s problems.” He says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

You're a bit surprised by his words. “Everyone down there is taking a pretty bad beating. After we killed Riven, everything’s only gotten worse.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He responds. “But you look like you’re about to drop dead. Shouldn't you sleep before you get yourself tangled in something else?”

“Zavala needed someone to take care of the patrols.” You say.

The Drifter scoffs.”There are a dozen other guardians who could take that off your hands. Guardians who have actually rested recently”

Your eyes lower, his words echoing in your mind. 

“Well?”

You shoot your eyes back at him. “Why do you care so much off of a sudden?” You questioned.

His lips twitch, and he sighs. “You’re…. You’re strong, and dedicated, and sweet, but I don’t think you realize that there's a army of guardians behind you. You don’t have to keep on fighting like you’re alone.” He explained. His gaze rested on your face, observing the heavy bags under your eyes.

You remain silent. 

“The only thing keep’n you going at this point is your Ghost huh? It’s ain't good for ya to continue like this on borrowed energy.” 

You glance to you Ghost, who has appeared beside you. He slightly nods his features, confirming what the Drifter said.

“I don’t like sleeping.” You whisper. “I-... there are dreams, bad ones. I always manage to have them.”

His face looked concerned. “Well, you have to rest at some point.” He says.

You stare back at the Drifter, who held a genuine look of concern on his face, which you didn’t think was possible until now. 

You lift your hot bowl into your hands and finish the dish, then rise to your feet before asking your Ghost; “Well, go ahead and cut me off.” 

“Are you sure?” He hesitates. The Drifter returns to his feet behind you as you look at him.

“Yeah, might as well feel the consequences of what I’ve put myself through.” You respond, and the Drifter nods.

Your Ghost signs as he works over your body, until the hot feeling of the Lights supports vanishes, and 500-pound weights strap to your limbs. You gasp as your legs tremble, and the Drifter catches you before you collapse. You sink into him, not having the strength to do otherwise. 

“Easy there,” He whispers, his voice rough.

You then fall limp in his arms, your body completely giving out. Your eyes close as you struggle to hold onto consciousness. The Drifter grunts as slips his arm under your legs, lifting you to his chest.

He looks at your face as you lose yourself to sleep. Your arms hung limply at your sides, and your breathing grew slow and steady. He lets out a long breath, then asks you Ghost what room number your quarters were.

\----------------------------------------

The Drifter struggled to find a way to open the door with the hand slipped under your back, until he spotted a keypad. 

“A little help here?” He directed at your Ghost, who then entered a passkey on the nearby keypad, and the door slid open.

It was a simple dorm-like space, with a twin bed, a desk, and a open door which lead to a basic bathroom. A handful of auto and scout rifles leaned against the walls, and a dismantled hand cannon rested on the desk. You were in the middle of cleaning the weapon before you got the emergency call from Petra. 

The Drifter rested your body on the bed, your eyes still shut and body still limp. He started to undo the laces on your boots until your Ghosts came into view. “I can do that.” He assured. In a few seconds, all of your armor was transmitted off, and you were left in your undershirt and a pair of dark shorts. With the thick layers of armor removed, the Drifter was surprised with how small your frame was.

Big things come in small packages, he thought. 

The Drifter then carefully moved your body under the sheets, doing his best to not disturb you any further.

He looked at your Ghost. “You should let Zavala know she ain’t doing those patrols.” 

“I already have” He confirms.

The Drifter noded. He started to face you, but then quickly turned to your Ghost again.

“Why’d you do it? Let her go on like that? Surely you had readings on her vitals, and you knew that she was more worn out that she thought she was.”

Your Ghosts eye blinked a couple of times. “Drifter, she’s... stubborn. I told her exactly what she was doing, but didn’t seem to care much.”

Before he could respond, the Drifter returned his gaze to you. You had started groaning, and your eyes fluttered as you struggled to fight off a nightmare. He sat on the side of the bed and gently ran his thumb over your hairline, doing what he could to comfort you. He could sense the powers within you. Your light, and something else. He placed his hand on your sweaty forehead, and you were cold. The power he sensed was all too familiar. Darkness had infected your mind, it’s icy claws tearing deeper into you with each passing second.

“Riven.” The Drifter said in realization. “The Ahmankara tapped into her. She must have infected her light during the raid.” 

You gasped as you suddenly woke, eyes wide and body trembling. He quickly flinched his hand from your face.

“You good?” He questioned.

You took a second to regain your composure, then responded. “Yh-yeah...it’s nothing.” as you started to sit up.

“It ain’t nothing sister.”

You look at the Drifter, surprised that he was here, sitting on your bed. He then ungloved one of his hands and tucked the glove under his thick belt.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Lean back.” He said. 

You did as he asked, confused about what his intentions were. He placed his large hand on your forehead. 

“Um...Drifter?” You questioned.

“Quiet” He ordered. He then closed his eyes, concentrating his power. 

You trembled as your body started to lose its heat, and winced as you felt shots of pain form throughout your frame. Sharp invisible claws dug into you, fighting to stay attached, like a virus. The Drifter saw the pain on your face.

“Hold on” He grunted. His hand then left your skin, and the pain vanished with it. A dark, oozy substance painted his palm. Darkness, you thought, in its purest form. He tightened the hand into a fist as the dark power drained into his skin. You were honestly amazed at how easily he drank in the dark, accepting it effortlessly. Then again, the Drifter was never interested in playing by the rules. He then uncurled his fingers with no trace of the black substance remaining.

“What did you do?” You questioned.

“You had a lotta pint up darkness in there. I’m betting that it was Riven, she had a lot of nasty tricks up her sleeve. She probably infected your mind while you were in her chamber.”

“Oh.” You whispered, touching your forehead with your fingers. It made sense.  
Your nightmares started after you had killed the Ahamkara. The awoken had warned you that her powers in seduction were powerful, but you had not realized just how far the grasp on your mind could reach. 

“You just... moved the infection from me to you?” You asked, looking back at his bare hand.

He chuckled. “I’ve been wrestling with the darkness for years, it ain’t gonna do nothing to me. You, on the other hand, didn’t stand a chance. Not so tough anymore now are we?” He snickered, his face smug. You didn’t respond, not having the energy to put up a fight against his smart mouth.

His tone then changed, and his words were soft. “You ain’t gonna have those dreams no more. You should sleep.” 

He then rose to his feet, and your heart sank. Before he could step away, you grabbed his wrist with a firm grip. He looked at you, confusion striking him.

“Drifter, I-... could you stay with me?”

“Stay with you? Why?”

“I just… I still don’t want to be alone.” You admit.

He sighs, but surprisingly obliges. He pulls up the chair from under the desk and sat by the side of your bed, he leaned back and rested his feet on the edges of your mattress. 

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Yeah, no problem...sleep now.” He grunted as he leaned his head back. 

You don’t fight off the waves of exhaustion as your heavy eyes close. You felt the Drifters light close to you. It was small, like a flame struggling to stay lit under a rainy sky.  
But you could feel it, and it comforted your mind. You dozed off once again, and for the first time in months, you slept peacefully.


	2. Intertwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man known as the Drifter seems to turley care for you, and you welcome the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! Sorry it takes me a while to update this story, I’m a pretty busy person. Anyways, please enjoy :)

You landed onto the Towers courtyard. A handful of guardians, new and old were scattered around.

Some stuck together in groups, whilst others spoke to vendors. Some were strangers to you, but you all were united under the Travelers energy, which painted the evening sky along with the stars.

You go through your usual routine, deciphering a couple of engrams, checking the postmaster and such. Once you finished, you head over to the ledge where Zavala stood.

He was already having a conversation with a couple of hunters, so you wait patiently for them to finish up. After they are done, Zavala greets you with a smile.

“Guardian, welcome back.” He says as the hunter pair walk away.

You return the smile and proceeded to give a brief report on your recent patrols.

“Two cycles on Nessus, one of Mercury and a half cycle on the EDZ. Not much trouble anywhere” You said.

It was much less than you were used to doing, but thanks to the Drifter, you had made some changes to your schedule.

(2 weeks ago)

“Listen, kid, what happened last night, that can’t happen again. It ain’t good for anyone to go on fight’en that long, not even for Guardians.” The Drifter said, determination in his rough voice.

You scoff at him “It was just a bad night, I’m usa-”

He cut you off with his hand.

“I don’t wanna hear it. From now on, you ain’t gonna be gone from this city for longer than 4 cycles at a time, that's 48 hours for you to cause all the havoc you want. Hell, spend all that time in Gambit, collecting motes for me if ya want. But don’t be pushing yourself to your breaking point.”

You crossed your arms across your chest, absolutely shocked.

“Who the hell are you tell me what I can and can’t do? Why should I listen to you?” You shot back at him.

He glared at you, and you returned the gaze, awaiting his answer. “I already told you, you’re _NOT_ alone. So quit acting like it.” He responds, his voice on the verge of a growl. It scarred you a little.

He turned and exits your quarters, the automatic door sliding shut behind him.

You had then sat on your bed for a long time, thinking about his words. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right.

Since the day of your rebirth, you had always felt an urgency to fight. To help others, like it was your calling.

As a guardian, it _was_.

But since the Red War, and losing many Guardian friends, you felt an overwhelming amount of guilt if you weren’t on the field, fighting off the darkness. You started making each bullet count as if the lives of those who still drew breath depended on it.

Losing Cayde didn’t make anything any easier. He was more than just a member of the Vanguard to you. He was a friend, a close one. Someone who you shared countless laughs and drinks with, and losing him just set you off the edge.

But the Drifter was right. The way you were fighting, the way you refused to let yourself rest, it was tearing you apart both mentally and physically. And as much as you tried to deny it, you were scared. Scared to death of losing anyone else you cared for.

You let out a frustrated groan as you leaned your head back on the bed, and covered your face with your hands. Your Ghost appeared and flew close to you.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, and you notice the softness in his voice.

“Yeah.” You responded. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

“Well, I bet at the very least you feel a lot better. You actually got a full 8 hours of sleep last night.”

You were slightly surprised when you realized that your Ghost was right. For the first time in months, you actually felt well rested, recharged. It was a luxury you hadn't felt in a long time. And what was most stunning, was that your common nightmares had not visited you in the night.

You sit up as you recall last night's events. Some things were a little fuzzy, but you do remember the relief that flowed through you after the Drifter stole the Darkness from your mind. And the way his light reassured you, it was different. He was different.

You pushed yourself off the bed and started dressing. You slipped on casual wear, your boots, and walked out of the dorm.

\-----------------------------------

You bent down under the garage door into the Drifters common space. The Drifter was talking to a group of guardians, who looked to be a Gambit team. The Drifter glanced past them and laid his eyes on you. He didn’t look pleased to see you standing there, which made you bit uncomfortable.

He finished up his conversation with the Gambit team and sent them off. As they left, you exchanged a couple of friendly nods from the members you knew, then you were left alone with the Drifter.

He looked either annoyed or frustrated, and you couldn't make out which one. You both stood still, and neither of you spoke a word, until you finally broke the silence.

“Hey.” You said. He crossed his arms.

“Hey.” He replied. You sigh and stepped closer to him.

“Listen, I'm sorry about earlier.”

His brow raised.

“I...was foolish, and ignorant.”

The Drifters expression changed, and he uncrossed his arms.

“And well, as much as I hate to admit it, you were right. I’m in denial, about how hard I push myself.”

“Why do you do it?” He suddenly asks.

You were a bit taken aback at the question, not knowing if you wanted to reveal this sensitive part of you. You look at the ground as you stumbled over your words, struggling to find the right thing to say.

He then took a step towards you, shorting the space between your bodies by only a few inches. You look up at him and made eye contact. “You can trust me, kid.” He said, almost a whisper. You stare at him.

“I’m scared…” You muttered, holding your gaze with him. Concern washed over his face, and you continued.

“I’ve been to a lot of bad places and met a lot of bad...creatures. I should have been scared, but the truth is that I’ve never been as scared as I am now.”

“Why” He questioned.

“Because I’m _losing_ people. People I care for.”

The Drifter sets his eyes on the ground.

“The Red War.” He sighs.

“And...Cayde.” You add, and he nods.

“Those Guardians, they were friends. The people I raided the Vault of Glass and the Dreadnaught with. But now they're nearly all gone. And losing Cayde, it-...I think that's what pushed me to…”

“To fight as if their lives depend on it?” The Drifter finishes, and you nod your head.

He then placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. The action was unexpected, but genuine.

“Kid, I’ve been around a lot longer than you have. Trust me, I’ve lost people too. But that doesn't give me a reason to run around shooting bad guys till I drop dead. I got people, connections that depend on me for certain things. And I gotta make sure I’m alive to deliver.”

You look down.

“What I’m tryna say is, you still got people. People that are still with you, and you gotta make sure your not just fighting for them, but that you’re able to be there for them. Otherwise, what the hell is it all for?”

It was advise you never expected from a man like him, but you understood his words. You looked back up and thanked him, your voice almost cracking. You’ve needed to hear those words for a long time.

After speaking with him for a while longer, you eventually accepted his request to limit the time you allowed yourself to stay away from the city. And his expression reflected something in the realm of glad.

(Present day)

You open the door to your quarters and see the Drifter lounging on your chair, his legs propped up on your bed. His presence here was unexpected, and you weren’t totally sure how he even got in. But you welcomed it all the same.

“Hey there hotshot.” The Drifter greeted, a bottle in hand. “Thought I’d offer my favorite guardian some refreshments.”

You carefully leaned your rifle against a wall and sat on the bed next to where his boots were propped up.

“Well, what's on the menu?” You ask, and the Drifter reaches behind him to your desktop and retrieves a shot glass.

“Pure vodka sister, drink up.” He said as he poured you a shot.

You accepted it happily and swallowed the clear liquid. It was strong, and hot on your throat, just the way you liked it.

You sat, drank, and laughed for some time. A question eventually  struck you, something that had tipped your curiosity.

“The darkness, how do you wield it? You questioned, as you leaned into your side.

He rose his hand, and a mixture of both light and dark illuminated his palm. He toyed with the powers in his hand, slipping it between his fingers. You were astonished, with how he allowed them to flow through each other, forming into one.

“If you wanna build up a tolerance to the dark, you have to welcome it. Not for its destructive nature, but for its ability to defeat itself. Like fighting fire with fire, ya? It's how we built Malfeasance.”

“Is your light weaker for it?” You question, after taking a swig from the half full vodka bottle.

He propped his legs off your bed and leans towards you, running a finger across a nasty scar on his jawline with his free hand.

“Why do you think I got all these scars? My ghost barley has the strength to heal me. Hell, if I were to die, I don’t know if he’d be able to bring me back.” He responded, his voice dull.

You eyed the scar he traced and others along his features.

“My light-, or what’s left of it, has been intertwined with the dark for years. It’s not a combination I would recommend for any guardian.” He continued, as the powers between his fingers sunk into his hand once again.

“Then why gambit?” You questioned. “You’re the one practically tossing us into the dark, why do it if it’s so bad?”

He leaned back a crossed his arms over his chest.

“I… used to run a different scam, with some dark people. I became consumed by the dark, allowed it to go too far. I’m tryna teach you guardians how to wield it properly, so the same doesn't happen to yall. Besides, you are doing sweet, sweet work getting me my motes, so I guess its a mutual benefit.”

He expected a lecture from you, a righteous speech about how light could never work with the dark, but all you did was nod your head. This was why he liked you so much, you weren't afraid of new ideas, even if they weren't of the norm.

As you both continued to drink, the drifter eventually found himself sitting beside you on the mattress. You told him something funny (you couldn't remember what exactly) and he leaned forward as he burst into a drunken laughter, so much so that he nearly fell off the bed.

You caught him by his arm, and hauled his weight back towards you, strong enough to cause him to fall completely back onto the bed. Unfortunately, his height betrayed him, and a loud thump sounded as the top of his head landed on the wall.

“Ouch, damn guardian, I told you I can’t be healed no more.” He said as he rubbed the spot on his head.

You giggled as you drunkenly fell back onto the bed with him, covering your mouth with one hand as you struggled to a keep burst of laughter contained.

You took a moment to calm down and take a breath, before lowering your hand again. Your hand accidentally landed on the drifter's fingers, and you quickly flinched them back to your side. He snickered.

“Jeez, did I burn you? I don’t bite Guardian.” You looked at him, and his eyes were already on you. 

You felt his light close to you, and indescribable desire to reach back out to him came over you, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You slowly stretched your fingers back to his, and you felt the cold leather of his glove on your finger tips. His hand twitched under yours, and he curled his rough fingers around your slim, delicate ones.

A part of you felt hesitant, as if you should snatch your hand from his. He may have been rebirthed in the light, but the man besides you was of the dark. As much as you knew it should have disturbed your light, you couldn’t help but feel something different in him. Yet you couldn’t place your finger on exactly what.

And as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you still couldn’t help but feel comforted in his presence. _Safe_ even, and you tightened your fingers around his.

For some time you both remained leaned back, fingers intertwined, sleep trickling into both of you.

You were about to doze off before his voice sounded in the quiet space.

“Your light...It’s like nothing I’ve felt before.” He whispered, his voice deep from the verge of sleep.

“How?” You respond, not bothering to open your heavy eyes.

“It’s _radiant_ , almost make me feel like my own hasn't abandoned me yet.”

He said this little, but in reality, he could barely contain himself as his light pulsed in his chest. What remained of his light was so strongly drawn to you, as if you were the only thing keeping it alive.

“Hmm, the light works in mysterious ways.” You mumble lazily.

He turns his head to you, and you’ve already fallen asleep. You looked peaceful, with your breath slow and your lips parted.

What he felt for you, he had no way of describing it with words. You were bright, _oh_ so bright, and _good_. He knew the feeling was unrealistic, barbaric even.

Yet, it was there, and with you near, he felt his light grow stronger than it had in decades.

He reached over with his free hand and brushed a stray hair from your forehead.

_Soon_ , he thought before his eyes closed, and he too slipped under sleeps ponderous spell.


	3. Patrol on the EDZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Drifter bugs you constantly, nagging you to bring him along for a patrol. You eventually accept, but something happens that you never expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

You landed out of transmat onto the cracked streets of the EDZ, with a sidearm around your leg, along with the Izanagi's Burden strapped around your back. Ever since Ada-1 gifted you with the powerful sniper, it’s been your first choice for patrols.

You breathed in the cool morning air. It was beautiful, with a colorful sunrise on the horizon, and birds chirping in the trees.

If only this place wasn't a war zone, you thought, as you exhaled.

A few moments later, the Drifter appeared beside you, out of his own transmat. He had been bothering you lately, insisting he come with you for a patrol.

_“You ain’t seen me in action sister, I might steal your thunder if you bring me along.”_

So, of course, you eventually agreed to let him come with you to the EDZ, just to prove him wrong.

You turned to him, and he had his usual smug across his lips. He was armed with a pulse rifle strapped around his shoulders, along with a hand cannon that was tucked under the thick layers of his belt. He was prepared for a fight, to say the least.

“So, what you packing for this party?” He questioned, placing a lazy hand on his hand cannon.

“Not sure yet, have to go see what Devrim has for me.”

“For us.” He corrected, waving his Trust in the air.

You roll your eyes before fitting your helmet over your head. The Drifter followed as you head towards the church. Once you reached the top floor, you spot Devrim Kay. He was propped up in his usual snipping position, with a pot brewing on the table beside him.  

“Devrim.” You greeted, and he turned to face you.

“Ah, hello guardian, it’s nice to see you. And I see you've brought a friend with you.” Devrim gave the Drifter a friendly nod, and he returned it.

“Zavala said you have something for me?” You asked.

“Ah, of course.” He responded as he placed down his rifled and started towards the monitors set up at the corner of the room.

“Well, I’ve been having a couple of Hunters track down a fallen captain for a few of days now. I do believe he’s tagged as Scarliac the Righteous. He’s a nasty bugger, and there's nothing righteous about him. He recently lead a raid on the farm, took out a handful of our people.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You respond.

“He’s smart too, shook the hunters off his back a couple of hours ago. He set some kind of a trap for them, nearly blew them to bits, but not before the hunters got a couple of shots off on his company. Anyways, I think you’re fit for a job like this. Better go find him before his trail goes completely dark.” He said as pulled a datapad from the monitor's output and handed it to you.

A basic description of the captain flashed from the screen. It contained his house, weapons, and last known location, which was not too far away. You thanked Devrim and left the church, with the drifter following close behind.

“Well, this is going to be a blast huh? Can’t wait to shoot the bad guys?”

Even though your helmet, he knew you were annoyed, and he chuckled.

You summoned you sparrows and started towards the captain's last known location. You traveled on a path through the thick forest until you reached a clearing in the trees, which looked to be the remains of a battlefield. A handful of dead fallen were scattered around, and black smoke rose up from the middle of the field.

You hopped off your sparrow and headed towards the source of the smoke, which was a huge indention in the ground. Scattered shrapnel laid out around the area, and a black substance covered the dirt, which smelled of smog.

“Must be where the explosion happened.” You said. The Drifter was leaned up against his sparrow, rolling a jade coin along his knuckles.

“Yeah, that Devrim guy said that the Hunters got a couple of them though, probably these fallen here.” The Drifter added as he pointed to the fallen carcasses.

You approached one of the dead fallen and bent down. There was a bullet wound right between his eyes, a good shot that you would expect from a hunter. You looked over to another dead fallen, then across the field and observed the still sizzling rocks and vegetation from missed fallen arc shots.

“What you got?” The Drifter asked as he approached you, shoving the jade coin back into his pocket. You rose to your feet and faced him.

“All the bodies are laid out facing where the trap blew, and they were shooting the same way. Across the blast site.”

“Hm-hm.”

“So the blast separated the fallen and hunters, explains how they managed to get away.

“Meaning, they most likely ran that way, away from the blast.”  The Drifter added as he pointed in the opposite direction, back into the woods.

“It’s a general direction at least. Hopefully, we can pick up a trail.” You responded.

“Well, after you.” He said, gesturing to the woods.

You and the Drifter split up to cover more ground. You walked aimlessly through the woods for some time, searching for any kind of trail the fallen left behind. You were about to suggest returning to the blast site before Drifter called out.

“Hey, over here.”

You approached him and set your eyes on a dead dreg, it’s body laid out in the grass. Across its chest, was a bright red cloth wrap, which matched the colors of the house described on the datapad. 

You bent down to inspect it and noticed a dagger plunged deep into its neck. You grabbed ahold of it, and with one swift movement, ripped the blade from the dreg. You held it close to you, inspecting it. With its sizzling arc edges, and ripped cloth wrapped handle, it was clear to you that the knife in your hand belonged to a vandal.

“Looks like another fallen killed him, a vandal.” You said, and the Drifter scratched his beard as he chuckled.

“Ain’t no shock. After the encounter they just had, I’d imagine anything would set them off on each other, they are savages after all.”

You tossed the blade to the side and looked down to its holster, which held its basic firearm. You then looked to its sheath and noticed that its own knife was missing.

“Ghost, scan around for its knife.” You order.

Your ghost appeared and starts scanning through the thick vegetation.

“What are you thinking?” The Drifter asks, bending down next to you.

“The fallen had a fight among each other, a violent one that left a dreg dead. But what's to say that he didn’t put up a fight? ”

“Over here, Guardian.” Ghost called out. You both rose to your feet and you broke your way through thick branches and vines to get to him.

A smaller blade laid in the dirt, one that would belong to a dreg. And surely enough, dark, oily blood covered the blade. You raised your head to scan the surrounding area and spotted droplets of blood. You approached the droplets and spotted others, forming the trinkles of a trail.

“Bingo.” You said, a wide grin forming across your masked face.

“Not bad Guardian.” The Drifter commented, clapping his hands a couple of times.

You turn to him, then place a hand on your hip. “What happened to stealing my thunder, huh?” You taunted, and he smirked.

“Oh, we haven't found any action yet sister, just you wait.”

You followed the trail through twist and turns for about an hour. You eventually reached the edge of the forest, into a grassy plain. When you did, the drops began to fade, until the trail ended at the carcass of the dead vandal.

“Ah shi-”

The drifter swiftly pulled you down into the tall grass. You struggled against him due to the shock, until he quietly placed a finger on his lips. He then slowly released his grip on you, and pointed out ahead through the grass blades.

A fallen scout walked across the plane, rifle in hand. His colors matched the one of the dreg you found before, and the nearby body of the vandal.

You looked at each other and nodded, then quietly begun trailing the vandal scout.

You and the Drifter followed the scout until he approached the remains of an old town. You slip past a handful of fallen guards, and climbed onto the rooftop of a tall, crumbled building. You approached the ledge, and laid out on your stomachs, being careful to stay out of sight. The Drifter pulled his rifle off his shoulders and scanned the area with his scope.

The height of the building gave you a clear view of the courtyard, which was littered in piles of fallen equipment, with fallen vandals and dregs scouting around. The area looked to be an old shopping town, with many varieties of buildings scattered along the streets.

“Hey, that your guy?” The Drifter asks, leaning to his side to let you look through his scope. You tip your head over and look through the scope, and a fallen captain came into view. It was at least 9 feet tall, and wore several layers of its houses colors.  A perfect match to the datapads description.

“Yeah, that's definitely him.” You grunted as you unstrapped your sniper from your back.

“Not too many other fallen around, should be able to pick him off then finish the rest, easy.” Drifter suggested.

“That seems to be our best plan.” You respond as you overload your Izanagi's Burden, charging all four rounds into a single powerful shot.

You prop yourself against the stock of the large weapon, resting your sites on the captains head. You were about to pull the trigger until the captain unexpectedly started moving out of your site, behind a brick wall.

You cursed under your breath, but waited patiently for him to appear again on the other side. The moment he did, you took the shot.

Birds jumped from the trees as the loud shot rang. Scarliac, the Righteous collapsed, dead before his body hit the ground.

“Nice shot!” The Drifter exclaimed, hitting your shoulder.

The fallen on the courtyard ducked out as soon as the shot fired, and with their leader dead, screeched what could only be described as cries of anger.

You rose to your feet, drew your sidearm, and the drifter cocked his pulse rifle.

“Shall we?” The Drifter urged, his smile all teeth.

“Let’s.” You responded.

You both then jumped off the roof onto the courtyard, unleashing chaos.

  
———-----------------------

 

You returned to the church, and when you reached the top story to greet Devrim you waved a large, blood covered red fallen house cloth in your hand.

“Ah! It seems you have killed the beast. Did he give you any trouble?”

You laughed as you tossed the cloth to the side.

“He didn’t even know what hit him.” You chuckled, and the Drifter snickered beside you.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Thank you, Guardian, it seems that I can always rely on you.”

You nodded to Devrim and left the church. You then decided to take a moment to yourself, and found a spot by the lake to sit for a bit.

You pulled off your helmet, and breathed in the fresh air, running a hand through your sweaty hair.

“Ha! Your face is as red as blood, I don’t see how y'all manage to wear those things all day.”

You chuckled as you set the helmet to the side.

“I don’t really like wearing it, but it’s Vanguard policy that we wear them in combat. Reduces the risk of “unnecessary injury” they say. 

""Unessesarry injury" my ass." The Drifter scoffed.

You then reached into the pouch strapped around your waist and retrieved a protein ration. You broke the bar in half and offered the Drifter a piece, which he declined.

"Nah, I hate those things.” He said, waving his hand.

“More for me I guess.” You responded as you popped a piece into your mouth.

“I gotta admit Guardian, you weren't half bad out there. That was a pretty nice shot you pulled with the target.”

You were about to respond until you noticed a black patch on the Drifters bicep. You squint your eyes, and saw that the fabric was burnt, the remains of an arc shot.

“You got hit?” You asked, quickly pulling his arm into better view.

He looked to the arm in your hands and shrugged.

“It’s nothing, just grazed me.” He responded.

You sighed as you released his arm. You knew his ghost most likely wouldn't be able to heal the wound, which troubled you.

“It’s my fault, I should have kept a better eye on your back.” You said, your voice dull.

“No, no it ain’t. I made a sloppy mistake, and paid the price with a grazed arm, ain’t nothing you did that caused it.”

You crossed your arms and pulled your knees close to your chest.

“That fight was mine. That target was mine. It's my fault if anyone else gets hurt.”

The Drifter shifted his weight so he was facing you.

“Kid, that fight was _ours_. You can’t keep living being afraid to let someone else help ya.”

“I’m not afraid, I’m just…”

“It doesn’t matter what you are. Just know that no matter what battle we find ourselves in, I got your back. No matter how many grazed arms I get.”

The play at humor worked, and you chuckled.

You thanked him and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, but his head turned at the last second and it accidentally landed on the edge of his lips. You quickly flinched from him and laughed in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean-“

The Drifter said nothing as he reached over and slipped his fingers to the nape of your neck, pulling your forehead to his, his eyes closed.

“Drifter?”

“Hm?” His breath was warm, his lips only inches from yours.

“What are you-” before you could finish the Drifter leaned forward, his lips landing softly on yours.

At first, you froze, taken off guard. But you slowly started to move your lips with his, hesitant at first, until you were kissing him fully. He moved both hands to your checks, pulling you closer to him as your nose pressed against his, deepening the kiss. He sighed into your mouth as you moved your hands on top of his, digging your fingers between his as he held your face.

He was warm, and his lips were _flawless_ on yours. But you could feel the darkness within him stir, a reaction to the contrast of your light. Who was he, _what_ was he? You honestly had no idea.

After a couple of extra seconds, he pulled his mouth from yours, both you and him desperate for air. He returned his forehead to yours, and you trembled slightly as he moved his hands down to the thick fabric covering your shoulders.

Before either of you could speak, a loud shot rang. The Drifter cried out as he toppled over, a blue and white bolt piercing deep into his back.

You were on your feet in an instant, weapon drawn. You saw nothing until another bolt of arc energy shot from the trees, which you barely dodged. To start a sprint towards the source of the attack. As you approached the trees, fallen snipers came into sight, all with matching bright red cloth wrapped around them.

“Damn it!” You yelled as dodged more shots, taking cover behind a large rock. You should have known, that what remained of Sarcilas’s house would come looking for revenge. You tipped your head from the rock, and just barely missed another arc shot.

“Fuck it” you groaned as you returned your weapon to its holster and clenched your fist. _Powerful_ arc energy filled you, shocking your nerves.

You lurched yourself from the rock, towards to woods. With the bright energy flowing through your veins, you _demolished_ the fallen. Many tried to run, but you caught them in your unforgiving grasp before they could.

You looked around, searching for any remaining fallen. When you found none, you allowed the energy within you fade.

You suddenly heard a branch snap beside you, and before you could react an ear-piercing shot rang. A vandal collapsed, it’s invisibility cloak glitching. You turned your head, and the Drifter stood leaned against a tree, his Trust aimed. He lowered his arm and staggard, struggling to keep himself held against the trunk. You quickly rushed to him and caught his weight before he collapsed, and he groaned as you did.

In the distance, you heard the screeches of fallen growing closer, headed your way.

“I’ve got to get you out of here.” You said, looking up to the Drifters pain filled features.

He pulled out his Ghost, it levitating from his palm.

“Derelict.” He wheezed, his breaths labored.

In a moment, you both were transmitted from the woods into the Derelict, which was in orbit around Earth. You took a second to take in your surroundings, which appeared to be what one would describe as a kitchen.

The Drifter staggered as he leaned his hand on a nearby counter, knocking glassing onto the floor, which shattered. You grunted as you struggled to support the much larger man's weight. You looked around, unsure of where to take him.

“Where’s the bed?” You asked. He started to cough as he pointed to the door ahead of him with shaky fingers.

You helped him as he struggled towards the room. The door slid open, and you help him until he fell on his side onto the bed. You quickly got to work removing his thick robe, helping him slip his arms out of the thick sleeves.  With the layer removed, you could see just how bad his wound was. Deep red and black flesh was exposed through the burnt hole in his shirt. The flesh surrounding the wound was burnt black, and smoke was still sizzling from the hole between his shoulder blades.

You looked to his ghost, who appeared at the corner of the bed.

“Don’t just watch, do something!” You protested.

His ghost flew over and started scanning over the deep wound. Even if he couldn’t heal him completely, it was worth trying anything he could.

You then ran back into the kitchen, frantically searching for anything you could use. Bandages, alcohol, tape, _anything_. You found some dish rags and tore the top cabinets apart until a half-filled bottle of whiskey came into your hands. You quickly ran back into the bedroom, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the bright pool of light that painted over the Drifters back.

When the light vanished, his deep wound was completely gone, without as much as a trace of burnt skin or exposed flesh. You reached over a ran your fingers across the healed skin.

“I...I thought that you-“

“I told you, Guardian.” The Drifter grunted as he rose from the bed. “Your light is radiant.”


	4. Softly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Drifters life-threatening wound has been heald, after you were convinced that his ghost could no longer perform such miracles.

You sat on the corner of the bed, while the Drifter stood leaned against the ceiling-to-floor windows of the bedroom, which displayed the view of Earth from the Derelicts orbit. He crossed his arms as he studied you, taking in each reaction you showed from his words.

 “I just don’t understand.” You said, baffled by what he explained to you.

 “What’s not to understand?”

 “I mean, how could I be _healing_ your light, If you've gone so long barely holding onto it?”

 He scratched his beard with a gloved hand.

 I don’t know.” He admitted. “I’m just drawn to ya, can’t explain the feeling.”

 You let out a frustrated groan as you rose from the bed, glaring at him.

 “You scared the hell out of me you know, I literally thought that you were about to die. Getting hit like that is pretty damn stupid.” You scolded.

 He pushed himself off of the glass and broke the space between your bodies.

 “I think we were both a little distracted, Guardian.”

 You crossed your arms across your chest, visibly embarrassed.

 “What happened by that lake...was stupid, a mistake.” You said, looking down to avoid his eyes.

 “You didn’t pull away though, did you.?”

 You scoffed.

 “I didn’t exactly know what to do. You kinda caught me off guard, it was a shock.”

 He took another step to you, closing the space to only a couple inches as he looked down to you.

 "Why are you lying to me kid.”

You looked up straight into his eyes, summoning all of your strength to not break the contact against his piercing gaze.

“I know the way my light feels with I’m with ya. And I think you have a similar feeling.”

You wanted to fight it. You wanted to fight him. You knew it was wrong, how dark he was, regardless of his light. He may have been drawn to your Light, but you felt something different in him. His _Darkness_ , you knew it attracted you to him. The foreign powers he wields drew you to him, and that scared you about yourself.

“You think I’m a bad guy, is that it?”

You stumbled over your words. “No, it's not-”

“I get it, you’ve always known nothing but the Light. My Gambit is the first true taste you've ever had of the Darkness. _True_ Darkness. I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’m not twisted in the Dark, cuz I am.”

Emotions and thought racing in your mind at a thousand mile an hour. What was this? What was the dark? What was he? What was this _feeling_?

He didn’t chase you as you quickly left the room, too overwhelmed to even comprehend responding. You aimlessly roamed through the halls of the Direllect, until you found a quiet corner between shelves and slumped down against the wall, holding your head in your hands.

The confliction inside of you made it hard to breathe. You were afraid, so on edge, because everything the Drifter said was right. He was _right_ about all of it. You looked around and spotted a bottle on a nearby shelf. You reached over and smelt it. Whiskey.

 _Typical_ you thought as you desperately took a swig, trying to calm your nerves.

Your Ghost slipped into view.

“Are you ok?”

“Do I look ok?” You said, a bit harsher than you intended.

“Why are you so scared?”

You took another swig before responding.

“He’s dark! I don’t know anything about him, he could be one of those crazy Shadows of Yor for all we know!”

“But you aren't scared of _him_.” 

You leaned your head back against the wall.

“Guardian, I don’t always have the best judgment on everything, but I don’t think he’s one of the bad guys.”

You tilted your head up, looking into your Ghosts eye.

“What makes you say that?”

He stuttered at first, struggling to find the right thing to say.

“I... think he's doing the wrong things for the right reasons. He told you once that he hosted Gambit to teach Guardians how to wield the darkness properly, so that were not consumed by it.”

The Drifter may have been a power hungry, sly schemer. But deep down, you recognized that he was simply another pawn in the battle that waged between the Light and the Dark. You were no different. Every Risen, Iron Lord, Guardian, was simply a piece of the dangerous puzzle that pieced together the reality of the neverending battle against the Darkness. Even if they didn’t always necessary _‘serve’_ the Light, they were all resurrected for the purpose of defending humanity, even the Drifter.

You rose to your feet, not having the will to continue to deny the hot feeling of desire crawling into you, and started back down the hallway. When you entered the bedroom, the Drifter was still standing arms crossed, staring out the windows into Earth's atmosphere. He looked to you as the door slid shut behind you, and you started towards him.

“Lisen, kid, I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off with your lips crashing onto his, hooking your arms around his neck. He staggered at the sudden force, but quickly wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

He groaned into your mouth as you traced the skin of his neck delicately with your gloved fingers, pushing him to advance his large hands up to the small of your back, tilting you closer to his frame. You were desperate for his Light, his Darkness, for _him._

You gasped as he suddenly picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sat on the bed, positioning your legs so that you straddled him. Your eyes fluttered as his lips then trailed from your lips to your cheek, then your jawline. He groaned as the thick layers of your armor prevented him from venturing lower, but quickly returned his lips to yours and kissed you with a newly found force. One of deep, hot desire. You slipped your fingers over his shoulders down his back, tracing the freshly healed skin between his shoulder blades.

Just as things were getting heated, your intercom buzzed, and the drifter's lips parted from your blushing face. In a daze, you struggled to retrieve the comn from the pouch strapped around your waist. You did your best to retain a clear voice as you answered.

“Hello?”

“Guardian? This is Commander Zavala. Devrim sent me your report, said that the Sacrliac job went well?”

The Drifter rolled his eyes as he returned his lips to your jawline. You tried to push him away, but your physical strength was nothing compared to his. With the Drifters lips leaving hot trails all along your jawline, you struggled to retain a proper tone.

“Y-es, yes sir.” You fought off the urge to gasp as the Drifter begun to softly nibble at the lobe of your ear, sending hot flashes through your already shaky body.

“Very well. I have some other business I’d like you to attend to. Return to the city when you can for the briefing.”

Thankfully, Zavala ended the line before you had to respond, and the comn slipped through your trembling fingers onto the ground as your hands returned to the Drifter, up into his messy hair, allowing yourself to react to his delicate touches.

“Hm...that was kinda fun, should do it again sometime.” He snickered, his own hand finding its way into your hair.

“I’ve...got to go...ah….for the briefing.” You managed, struggling to hold onto your composure.

“I hope you’re joking sweetheart.”

“I’m not.”

He pulled his face away to look at you, his hand still in your now wild hair. He sighed, as he gently runs his fingers through the locks, sending more shivers down your spine.

“All right, but you come find old Drifter once you’re done.”

 ------------------------------------

 You entered your quarters, and sure enough, the Drifter was there, on the edge of your bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey there hotshot”

You walked past him to set down your heavy rifle and helmet down on your desk.

“Jeez, your armor looks like you went mud wrestling. What the hell did Zavala have you do?”

You smiled.

“Just some business on Mercury, this mess is from a round in the Crucible. Caught the last minute game.”

“Wish I could have seen it.”

You held out your Ghost, and had him transmat off the heavy, muddy armor, leaving you in your usual under layers. With the skin of your legs and arms exposed, the Drifter rose and started towards you. He stood close to you, his breath warm on your face, as he traced your exposed arm with his gloved hand. You sighed into his touch as you placed a steady hand on him, seeking balance. He ducked his head, but you pressed your fingers against his greedy mouth before he could kiss you.

“Not until you explain some things to me.”

He withdrew from you, and returned to his spot on the bed.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

You joined him on the edge of the mattress, hesitant to ask him a particular question, but determined all the same.

“Are you a Shadow of Yor?”

He snorted.

“Jeez, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted by that. Do you even know what they are?”

“Not exactly… but I’m serious.”

“I… not anymore. Back in the Dark Age, things weren't exactly easy. I’m sure you know about the feud between War Lords and Iron Lords, right?”

“Yeah… well enough I guess. Uh, you’re really that old?”

“Don’t get smart with me kid. There weren't no Guardians, no protectors back then. The Iron Lords claimed to be our protectors, but all they did was wreak havoc all across the Earth, got a lot of innocents killed. I went to the Shadows, looking for answers. I realized all too late just how delusional they were as well.”

“Is that how you got tangled in the Dark? How your Light got weakened?”

“Guardian, I gave up on the Light years ago. Watched it fail lots of people, do more harm than good. It’s initially why I went to the Shadows, thought they had something else to offer me, which they did mind you. But the Shadows don’t just go looking for what the Dark offers, they surrender all they are to it.”

“Is that really true?”

“What is?”

“That you’ve given up on the Light?”

He shifted his weight, facing you as he leaned closer.

“I gave up on _my_ light Guardian. But... times have changed, the Travelers alive, and since I’ve met you I’ve started to feel the energy of the Light, like it’s recognizing me again. You feel something similar, don’t ya?”

You held your hands to your lap, your leg shaking with the stress that came with what you said.

“The Dark… it’s like a spark inside of me. It’s grown stronger since...well, we first met I guess.”

He reached over and placed a hand on your shaky leg, calming it.

“Were often drawn to what we don’t have. Nothing wrong with it, just our nature as Light bearers, to seek more power.”

You slowly covered his hand with yours, and with that, he leaned closer to you. You don’t fight him as he pressed his lips to yours, moving the hand on your leg to your hip. His mouth danced with yours, as his hands resumed running along your skin, sending shivers through your body as he caressed the bare skin. Goosebumps formed on you as he traced circles on your leg, his cold fingertips drawing soft sighs from your lips.

He crawled over you, his lips never breaking from yours as he leaned you back onto the bed. He hovered over you as his lips traveled lower, finally having the freedom to venture over your exposed skin. You bit your lip as he placed kisses along your collarbone, then to your neck. He searched all over your neck until he found a spot that made you gasp, and he started nibbling softly at the sweet patch of skin. You desperately grasped at his collar, the hot waves of pleasure starting to approach the brink of too much.

You gasped as his fingers found their way down to your waistband, slipping under the fabric. He flinched his fingers back at the sound as he looked at you, eyes concerned.

“Drifter?”

“Yeah?”

“I...haven't before. Not since my rebirth, I mean.”

His face looked surprised, as he raised his hand back up to your face, tracing your jaw. Your cheeks flushed as embarrassment filled you.

“I just...never had a reason to, I guess.” You admitted, looking away from him. He ducked down and kissed you, softer than any man like him should be capable.

“We don’t have to, kid.” He whispered.

He leaned off of you and slipped off of the bed. He was starting towards your door before you reached out a grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, a small smile forming across his lips.

“You already know what I’m going to ask.” You say, releasing his wrist.

He chuckled, as he started to slip his arms out of his thick robes.

“Yeah, sure.”

He tossed his robe, gloves, and other heavy layers to the side, leaving him in a simple tight fitting shirt. A one similar to what he was left in after he was shot, earlier in the day. He approached you on the bed, but before he leaned back you quickly caught him, and slipped your hand over his shoulder down his back. His eyes fluttered as you felt the skin between his shoulder blades, searching for any remains of the terrible injury he acquired before. He eventually grabbed your arm and pulled it from him, chuckling as he did.

“Relax, nothing left there.”

A sigh of relief escaped you, as he leaned you back onto the bed, gathering you in his arms. You rested your head on his chest, below his chin. You felt the rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear, and your head rose and fell with his breath.

“Thank you, Drifter.” You whispered, tracing the bare skin of his hand.

He looked at the finger that traced his skin, appreciating the delicate touch. With you here, so close to him, he felt such a _powerful_ need to protect you. To shield you from the corruption that the Dark offered naive Guardians, the unforgivable crime of destroying all that they are if they allow themselves to fall too deep into its foul grasp. He knew this evil all to well, and right then, he promised himself to preserve your Light, your intrepidity, your goodness. At _any_ cost.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“Yeah, sleep now sweetheart. You’ve got a whole system full of evil to tackle tomorrow.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed the chapter, please feel free to leave a comment. I love hearing what you guys thought and now I’d like to hear ideas of what you guys want to see in future stories. :)


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